


Secrets to Choose From

by SparkyBoom



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Campfire Bonding, F/M, Gen, Magic Revealed, Merlin has secrets, Secrets, but also not really, but not actually, but they love each other - Freeform, everyone is confused, merlin/oc - Freeform, the knights try to be sneaky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 23:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19328053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkyBoom/pseuds/SparkyBoom
Summary: It was tiny and swaddled in a red blanket, and from the dim light of the waxing moon they could see the dark hair atop its head. Merlin was cooing at it and even from their distance they could see the big goofy smile on his face as he wiggled a finger that the baby held in its tiny fist. The woman behind him leaned against the door frame and smiled at the sight before her. She said something softly to him, which caused Merlin to glance up. He flashed a smile and said something back to her, which made her laugh. She leaned forward and encased Merlin in a hug and kissed his cheek before reaching her arms out as he gently handed the baby back to her, making sure to extricate his finger with care. With a final wave, he ducked his head and turned back to the castle, and the woman closed the door behind her.Elyan and Percival stared at Gwaine.“When did Merlin get married?”----------------------------------In which the knights spy on Merlin and make assumptions, and uncover more than they thought they would.





	Secrets to Choose From

Gwaine winced as he stretched his muscles, pulling at the sore spots. It had been a long day. Arthur drilled them until most were struggling to keep their swords held up, and then kept them to go over patrol reports for another three hours. Whatever he thought he was preparing them for, the knights were exhausted.

Fortunately, this meant that now was a good time convince a few mentally drained knights to unwind at the Rising Sun. Leon, able to hold his own against the antics of Gwaine, insisted on retiring straight to his own chambers, and was probably already asleep. No matter, Gwaine had Percival and Elyan with him, and their exhaustion simply meant it wouldn’t take as many to feel drunk by the end of the night.

A few (maybe more) pints, two dice games, and one jar of pickled eggs into the night, Gwaine began to catch the telltale signs of a too-drunk Percival, with his arms hung loosely upon the table, his head lolled to the side, and goofy giggles erupting from him at some unknown joke. When Percival got deeply drunk, perhaps by the end of his current half full pint, he often seemed to lose the ability to move his heavy limbs on his own, which meant he would have to be carried back to the castle. By the glance Gwaine caught from Elyan, he had noticed as well.  Not wanting to lug the sleepy giant all the way up through the upper town and into the labyrinth of stairs and hallways back to his room, Gwaine threw back what was left of his ale, and hurried to settle the bill.

Percival was mostly capable of moving on his own, with a few stumbles in which he grabbed wildly at either of his companions. As they approached the upper town he lurched forward, grabbing at Gwaine’s front, and nearly pulled him into the mud.

“Whoa there, watch it, Perce!” Gwaine struggled to loosen Percival’s iron grip on his shirt. “Oi, let go, mate, we’ll get you back.”

“Merlin,” Percival mumbled.

“You definitely had too much,” laughed Elyan. “That’s Gwaine, not Merlin.”

“No,” said Percival. “No, look! Merlin!”

He pointed toward a house barely outside the gate to the upper town. There was a rare window that opened onto the street. Through the small pane of watery glass, they could make out two figures moving about.

“Ah, come on mate, it’s too dark to see anyone from here. Merlin’s probably back up at the castle, tending to his Royal Princess right now.”

“No,” Percival insisted. “It’s him! Come on!”

Drunk Percival also forgot his own strength. In a bone crushing grab, he dragged Elyan and Gwaine into the shadows across the street from the house.

“Perce, this is ridiculous—“

“Shh! Look!”

Sure enough, Merlin exited the house, and in his arms…

In his arms he held a baby.

It was tiny and swaddled in a red blanket, and from the dim light of the waxing moon they could see the dark hair atop its head. Merlin was cooing at it and even from their distance they could see the big goofy smile on his face as he wiggled a finger that the baby held in its tiny fist. The woman behind him leaned against the door frame and smiled at the sight before her. She said something softly to him, which caused Merlin to glance up. He flashed a smile and said something back to her, which made her laugh. She leaned forward and encased Merlin in a hug and kissed his cheek before reaching her arms out as he gently handed the baby back to her, making sure to extricate his finger with care. With a final wave, he ducked his head and turned back to the castle, and the woman closed the door behind her.

Elyan and Percival stared at Gwaine.

“When did Merlin get married?”

Gwaine was still gaping at the closed door. “He’s… I don’t... He never told me.”

The other two exchanged worried looks. Gwaine had always been closer to Merlin than any of the rest of them, save Arthur himself or perhaps Lancelot before the veil, and it seemed to shock Gwaine that he had been kept in the dark about this.

“Let’s get back to the castle,” said Elyan. “We can figure it out tomorrow.”

The next day Arthur was blessedly merciful during training, and even cut it short. They had a few minutes in which they could relax as they changed in the armory before they went on to their next duties.

“How’s your head, Percival?” asked Leon with a chuckle. Percival’s hangover caused him to miss the target in practice more often than not, which all the knights relentlessly teased him for.

“Still attached, I think,” he muttered. The knights chuckled, but Gwaine barely cracked a smile.

“Come on, Gwaine, what’s wrong with you?” said Arthur, slapping Gwaine’s arm with a glove. “You’re sulking and you’ve barely said anything all day. And I know you’re not hungover, because you actually showed up. So what’s going on?”

Percival pulled himself up from where he was slouching to rest his head, and Elyan suddenly became very interested in the stitching of his gambeson. Leon picked up on the change in mood. “What’s going on?”

“Where’s Merlin, today?” asked Gwaine, not looking at Arthur.

“Merlin?” Arthur was bewildered in the abrupt change of topic. “There’s an illness throughout the lower town, he’s helping Gaius treat it.”

Gwaine narrowed his eyes at the king. “You were there, weren’t you? We didn’t need to know, but it would be a great honor to have _the king_ attend your wedding.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Arthur said, thrown from the conversation again. “What wedding?”

“Merlin’s wedding,” Gwaine growled. “Surely you know about it. He’s my best mate, always knew I would be second to you though. Still, I thought he’d at least bother to tell me before he even had a kid.”

“What are you saying, Gwaine?” Leon asked. “Merlin has a family?”

“Ask him,” Gwaine nodded up to Arthur, who had a bewildered look upon his face.

“Merlin is married?” Leon repeated. “What… What proof do you have? Did he tell you this?”

“We saw him,” said Elyan. “Last night, right outside the upper town. He was with a woman and child in a house he could probably afford with the wages he gets from both Gaius and you, Sire.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Arthur shook his head as if to clear it. “Merlin’s not married. He’d have told me if he were.”

“You didn’t know?” Gwaine stood up to face Arthur. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Merlin’s not married,” Arthur repeated, but with little confidence.

“Are you sure of what you saw?” Leon asked.

“You didn’t see them,” said Percival. “And there was no other man at the house. It was late. She kissed him.”

“She kissed him?!” Arthur stared. “He’s never even mentioned a woman before. Where was this house you mentioned?”

“It’s at the top of the lower town, just outside the inner gate,” said Elyan. “We were going to go back tonight…”

“You’re all going to spy on Merlin?” asked Arthur, eyebrows raised.

“You can join us, if you like,” said Gwaine. “See for yourself.”

“I don’t spy on my servants.”

“Call it what you like. We’re heading down at last light.”

Several hours later and lots of questions racing around his mind, Arthur donned his dark blue cloak and met the other knights at the edge of the courtyard. He was decidedly not spying. Just wanting to go out with his friends. In the direction of the lower town. And if they got waylaid outside a specific house, who’s to know what they might see there?

Gwen had reprimanded him when she heard his plan. She didn’t know about this secret family either, and had squealed with delight when Arthur asked her if she knew.

“Merlin’s married?” she squealed. “He has a baby?”

“You don’t know anything about this?” Arthur asked.

“Goodness, no,” she said breathlessly. “Oh, but… oh, I’m sure he’s an excellent father. He’s… really? Are you sure? He just never mentioned anything…”

“Not even Gwaine knew. And they seem pretty convinced, but I’m not so sure.”

“So Merlin might not be married?”

“We’ll see tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going out with the knights to the lower town,” said Arthur, avoiding her gaze. “It’s been some time since I’ve had the chance to relax for a drink with them.”

“Arthur,” Gwen warned. “You’re not going out there to spy on him, are you?”

“Of course not,” he said casually. “We’re just going to the tavern. And if we happen across anything unusual…”

“If Merlin has chosen not to share this part of his life with you, he must have a reason,” Gwen admonished. “You have no right to demand more from him.”

“Merlin doesn’t keep secrets,” said Arthur. “Have you ever seen the man try to lie? Honestly it’s dangerous that I have him in as many council meetings I do. If he ever got captured, there goes all of Camelot’s secrets.”

Gwen glared at him until he relented. “Oh alright, he’s too damn loyal for any of that. But he can’t tell a lie to save his life. He doesn’t keep secrets.”

“Not from you?” asked Gwen gently. Arthur didn’t respond. “Maybe he just needs one part of his life to be his. I’m sure if this is what they think it is, Merlin will come around and tell you soon enough.”

“Not in time for the birth of his child?” Arthur asked skeptically.

“Well,” she said. “Maybe it was a bit overwhelming? I’m sure having a child is quite…”

She trailed off. Arthur looked up at her and took her hand. They had been trying to have a baby of their own since their marriage. It had been a long two years, and the rumor mill was gaining more and more momentum the longer it took them. Gwen had been the subject of nasty whispers and pointed fingers when they thought no one was looking for not providing the king with an heir yet. Much quieter whispers followed Arthur around, but he knew they were there.

“It’s just not our time yet,” he murmured. “Soon. Soon we’ll have our own.”

She turned to look at him with shining eyes, her hand on her empty belly. The apology was bright in her eyes. He pressed his lips to her temple.

“Don’t,” he whispered into her ear. “Don’t apologize. Just keep ignoring the rumors. That’s all they are. It means nothing to us, right? We can get through them.”

“It’s just… I know how important an heir is for you,” she said. “I just feel like I’m not—”

“You are everything,” he said. He took her hands in his, and lowered his head to look her in the eyes. “And all of them? They are nothing. Don’t let them get to you.”

After looking into her husband’s eyes a moment longer, she took a shaky breath and nodded. “Besides,” she said. “This is about Merlin, and his family. Not us.”

Arthur huffed out a chuckle. “Merlin with a child. It seems…”

“It seems right,” she said. “He needs a life outside of work, doesn’t he?”

“He’s practically a child himself, for him to try to raise one…”

“That’s how we know he’ll be an excellent father. If he is one. But Arthur, don’t you feel at all bad about spying?”

He grimaced. “Can I convince you it’s not spying?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll just convince myself,” he said. “Every time I think I have him figured out, there’s something else.”

Gwen chuckled. “I have to admit, I am curious to learn what you find out.”

“I’ll report back to you,” he promised with a kiss.

They were now approaching the gate to the lower town. Arthur had his hood pulled down, and tried to stay in the shadows of the fading light. He could never get away with the anonymity as his general knights did. Every citizen of the city would recognize him, particularly one secretive manservant.

“That’s it,” muttered Gwaine, nodding at the house just beyond the gate. It was not quite as large as some of the residences of the upper town, where most artisans of the royal household and several knights or lesser lords lived. It was humble, yet more than what most merchants of the lower town could afford, with the rare feature of windows facing the street. There was a woman in front of the house beating out a rug. On her back was a bundle with a small baby gurgling joyously from under a dusting of dark hair.

The woman was quite beautiful. Her hair was a deep chestnut brown, shining in the setting sun, and pulled into a long, loose plait to the side. Her dress was dark with sleeves that reached all the way down her arms. A smattering of freckles dusted her cheeks and nose, and she held herself tall and strong.

“Oh, damn,” Percival dropped a small coin purse, causing money to spill in all directions, and pulled Gwaine into a shadowy alley behind the blacksmith’s shop to pick it up. They rest followed them and made a show of waiting impatiently as Percival took quite some time picking up his coins, examining each one carefully as he placed them back in his pouch.

“There,” whispered Elyan. Arthur shifted a bit, and saw coming up from the lower town a familiar figure.

Merlin had a medicine bag thrown over his shoulder as he stretched out his arms walking up the road. The woman stopped beating the rug, and leaned against her broom to watch him approach. Or maybe she was watching the sunset. Or looking at someone they couldn’t see behind him.

“Merlin!” she called out.

Merlin looked up and waved at her. _Well damn_ …

“You’re late,” she teased.

“Sorry!” he said as he approached. “You know how Gaius is. A million questions and a thousand herbs.”

“Sounds like you were busy,” she said. Arthur’s eyebrows rose as she pulled Merlin into a hug and planted a peck on his cheek. She rested her hand on Merlin’s arm. “Dinner’s ready, but you took so long, I decided to finish up some chores while waiting.”

“You should get Robin out of the dust, I can take over for this if you want.”

“It’s almost done, I don’t mind. You can take him in though,” she her hand ran down his arm to grab hold of his. “How long can you stay tonight?”

“I’ll have to be up early in the morning, Arthur has a few meetings to be ready for.”

“Of course. Well, at least I get you for a couple hours?”

“A couple hours,” Merlin said with a smile. He squeezed her hand before letting go to step behind her and pulled the baby, Robin, out. The child gleefully waved his arms at Merlin, tugging tight on his scarf and squealing. Merlin shifted him in his arms.

“Any problems today?” he asked while trying to tug back the fabric around his neck.

“He wouldn’t sleep, and I haven’t been able to get him to eat anything,” she said, worry etched into her face as she looked at her child.

“All day?”

She shook her head. “Do you have anything for him?”

“I might, but it may just come down to whether or not he wants to eat. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Merlin,” she reached out and pulled him into a soft hug, mindful of the babe he carried. He headed inside and she resumed beating the rug for a few more hits before shaking it out and following him inside.

Arthur released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. They could still see some movement inside through the window, though the glare of the sun blocked them out from continued prying.

“That was…” Leon started.

“Well?” Gwaine rounded on Arthur.

Arthur sighed. “Let’s get that drink.”

The night turned from pensive silence to righteous anger to bawdy teasing. They had come to the decisions that one: Merlin was married; two: he should have told them, and three: he was probably one of the most attentive husbands and fathers his schedule could allow. Arthur refused to let himself feel guilty about taking up most of Merlin’s time, including not being able to stay the night with his own family, since how was Arthur to know that he even _had_ a family he was trying to get back to every day? The knights all knew that once Merlin came clean, his small child would be the focus of their affections, and Gwaine was already calling himself “Uncle.” Arthur assured them that Gwen would love to be godmother, though there was some heated debate on who could claim the title of godfather.

“If he wanted his son to become a rogue drunkard, then of course he’d choose you Gwaine, but Merlin’s a man of loyalty and honor. For a servant. The heart of a knight. He’d want his child to be raised well, and what better than a king?”

“You think he’d want that kid to grow up with stuffy rituals and rites of passage and all those stupid nobleman expectations? To grow up to be a prat? No, he wants his kid to have some grounding, probably why he hasn’t told us yet.”

“Do you think Gaius knows?” Elyan tried to break up the argument.

Arthur contemplated this for a moment. “Most likely,” he concluded. “Merlin’s like a son to him, probably considers Robin as a grandson.”

“Has Merlin’s mother been by lately?” Leon asked. “Surely she would come to meet and take care of him too.”

“We don’t have answers,” said Gwaine.

“We won’t until Merlin tells us.”

“And when will that be?”

“When he feels like it?”

“Oh, so never.”

“You don’t know that, maybe he’s just waiting for the right moment.”

“So when is that?”

“Uhhh…”

Their next conclusion reached was that Merlin would never tell them about it. They were beginning to realize how few details they knew about their friend, but were talking themselves in circles through the fog of drunken stupor. Ultimately, they knew that Merlin was private yet friendly, outspoken yet reserved, and wore his heart on his sleeve, yet was mysterious. A man of contradictions. He would have to be persuaded to inform them of his personal life.

Eventually they ended up back on their way to the castle, some hours later. Arthur’s hood had slipped down and the guards patrolling the city would stop in the middle of reprimanding the group of loud drunkards when they recognized the King. Arthur waved off their bows and commended them for their work, and suddenly he was in front of the door to his chambers. He’d had way too much if the look on Gwen’s cross face was any judge.

“Gweniverrr,” he slurred. “My wife!”

“Yes,” she said sternly. “Your very worried wife. Since you have been gone for hours after spying on your best friend.”

“Sorry,” he fumbled with his boots. Were they always this hard to take off? “Mission was a su… succss. Success!” he waved a single boot in the air. “Went out.”

“I thought that might be the case,” she sighed. She conjured a potion vial from thin air. “Here, I went to see Gaius in case you came back like this.”

“Howchu do tha’?” he gaped at the vial.

“Oh for God’s sake,” she muttered and unstoppered it for him. “Down in one go, you have early meetings tomorrow morning.”

To his credit, Arthur didn’t think he made the usual grimace of disgust when he drank it, but also couldn’t remember tasting it either. Gwen sat him on the bed and put a goblet of water in his hand as well. “Now this, Arthur. Imagine what Merlin will say when he comes in tomorrow and finds you still half drunk.”

“Merlin!” his head shot back up. “That’s right!”

“I take it you found answers then?”

Gwen yelped as Arthur suddenly pulled her down to sit next to him. “Merrin’s married,” he said seriously. “Gotta baby too. Robet.”

“Robert?”

“No, Rob. In. Robin.”

“Merlin’s baby is named Robin?”

“His son,” Arthur nodded solemnly, as if pronouncing a sentence.

“And you talked to Merlin about this?”

“No, no time. But she kissed ‘im,” he suddenly smirked mischievously. “Like this,” he swooped in quickly and planted a wet kiss against Gwen’s cheek. She threw her head back and laughed at her husband’s antics.

“Oh, is that so?” she asked.

“Or it could have been like this,” he captured her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers. What started simple and sweet turned sloppy and urgent. Gwen pulled away first, guiding her husband’s wandering hands in between them, and held fast.

“You need to be up early tomorrow,” she said, smile twinkling. “And you’re much too drunk to do anything properly tonight.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Won’t know unless we try.”

She chuckled. “Perhaps tomorrow night,” she said. “It’s well past midnight now. Merlin will be here in a few hours to get you ready for your meetings.”

“He’s never on time.”

“He has been since you’ve become King,” she reminded him. “You’ve not missed a council meeting yet, and Merlin will make sure you’re there even if you’re fast asleep.”

Arthur cursed under his breath, knowing she was right. Damn his nosy, private, competent manservant. At Gwen’s light laughter, he realized he had said that aloud.

“Come to bed,” she said. “We’ll deal with it in the morning.”

The soft gray light of dawn cracking through the blinds assaulted Arthur’s eyes. It was too early for anyone to be up, especially the king (or the sun itself for that matter), so he pulled a pillow over his head and buried his face into the mattress. The next moment was a loud commotion of “Rise and shine, you lazy daisy!” and the pillow being yanked away from his weak grip.

“Uhhhnn,” he groaned.

“Oh, none of that,” the voice above him sang loudly.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Arthur said. Or tried to. It was difficult for him to tell what got through the muffling of sleep, mattress, and covers.

A bark of laughter caused him to wince. “You’re late to the council, they expected you there fifteen minutes ago.”

“What?” he sat up sharply before squeezing his eyes shut against the spinning room. “Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”

“You wouldn’t wake.”

Arthur cursed and stumbled out of bed, falling and staggering as he made his way to the changing screen. Merlin had set out some clothes for him, and after a few attempts of trying to fit both arms and head through a single sleeve, eventually got a semblance of dressed and came crashing out from the screen, only to see his wife and Merlin sitting at the dining table, laden with breakfast meats and porridge, laughing at him.

“What…?”

“Council starts in twenty minutes, I just needed you to get out of bed on your own,” Merlin laughed. “It’s undignified for a king to be literally dragged out of bed by his servant.”

Arthur’s brain caught up to the sight in front of him and registered what was just said. “There’s time for breakfast?”

“Go right ahead,” Merlin gestured to the table. “You might want to take this first, though.” He held out a small vial of green sludge. “Gaius told me you might have had a late night.”

As Arthur ate through some of his breakfast and gathered his wits about him, Merlin ran through the agendas for the meetings that day. Arthur began to tune him out, and tried to appraise the man in front of him.

“—and then with winter coming up you have to begin the rationing of grain. The village of Caldryn didn’t produce much this year but they have most of the mills—“

“Any pressing matters?” Arthur interrupted.

“Sorry?” Merlin looked up from his notes.

“Any matters that need to be personally addressed and seen to in the next week or so?”

Merlin skimmed through the rest of his pages. “Nothing that needs to be resolved immediately, but should at least be planned out soon.”

“Excellent,” said Arthur. “We’re going on a hunt.”

Gwen visibly rolled her eyes, and Merlin’s eyebrows rose.

“We have the council meetings in ten minutes, that’s a bit sudden to cancel them.”

“I know that, _Mer_ lin,” he said. “I meant tomorrow. Inform the knights as well. They’ll accompany us.”

“What, all of them?”

“No, Merlin, you oaf. You know the ones.”

Merlin snorted. “Well alright. You finish this, I’ll meet you in the council chambers. Guess I’ll go let them know.”

Merlin poured another cup of water and left. Gwen immediately turned to glare at him as the door swung shut.

“You mean to ambush him with this on a hunt?” she demanded.

“Not ambush, no,” he said. “Gently coax out the answer, sure. You know him, if he hasn’t told us by now, he won’t on his own. Just a little push is all.”

She narrowed his eyes at him. “Do remember to respect his privacy, Arthur. You may be the king, but he is your best friend.”

“Of course,” he said, though he had the good grace to look slightly sheepish.

After several frustrating meetings and an unsatisfying training session, Arthur was exhausted and actually looking forward to getting out of the castle for a night or two. When he returned to his chambers, Merlin was packing his bags for him and chatting with Gwen.

“Have you packed your own yet?” Arthur asked.

“I will once I’m finished here,” said Merlin. “I have a few other things to take care of as well tonight.”

“Oh?” Maybe they didn’t need to trick him on the hunt, maybe right now…

“Some last minute chores for Gaius and such,” said Merlin. “The lower town is all catching a nasty cold and Gaius needs some more tinctures put together for tomorrow. This trip isn’t supposed to last more than a day, right?”

“Depends on how successful it is,” said Arthur. “Why, have other things on your mind?”

“Yes,” said Merlin, rolling his eyes at Arthur. “The lower town. Gaius’ remedies. You know, my other job.”

“If we’re gone too long you can return early,” said Arthur easily. “If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you’re trying to get yourself out of this one, _Mer_ lin.”

Merlin gave him a pointed look. “Well I do have better things to do here in the citadel than going off killing innocent little animals in their own home.”

“Think of it as a vacation,” said Arthur. “Time off for once, just a ride through the forest.”

“I’d like time off when I don’t have to worry about the disease in the lower town spreading like a plague,” Merlin said. “And also time off that doesn’t involve continually attending to you and the knights. You know, real time off. No job duties whatsoever.”

“And what would you do with all that time?” scoffed Arthur. “You’d be bored out of your mind within seconds.”

“Well for starters, I’d have a nice lie-in for once. Not all of us can sleep in like a king.”

Merlin ducked instinctively as a pillow soared through the air at his head.

“Go get ready, Merlin. We leave in the morning.”

 

Despite the cheerful mood of the party, they had caught nothing the entire day. The cool air of the morning had quickly dissipated, leaving a sticky heat as the end of summer often did. The knights weren’t really trying hard in their search for something to kill. It did indeed seem to be an excuse to simply ride out together through the forest. The day was full of laughter, banter, and swapping of stories from before knighthood. Arthur loved this time with his knights, and the opportunity to learn who his trusted circle was before they came to Camelot. Gwaine exchanged many the bawdy remark with a blushing Leon, and teased Elyan for shamelessly flirting with one of the kitchen servants the week before. All remarks directed at Merlin were light and only slightly probing, which he kept letting roll off his back with infuriating ease. The purpose of this sudden trip was not lost on the knights, and they kept exchanging glances the more Merlin evaded their questions. They had never realized how little he let on about himself. The day wore on, and soon enough the sun was sinking low over the trees, bathing the forest in a thick golden light that caught on every leaf and stone.

“We won’t find much anymore, Sire,” Leon called. “Best head back to that stream and try our hand at fishing.”

“Agreed,” said Arthur. “We’ll head back and make camp.”

As twilight was setting in, Merlin had the day’s catch frying over a large fire, grinning at Gwaine’s latest – exaggerated – story  of the time he saved not just one, but a group of unattended damsels in distress from the clutches of mercenaries.

“And I swear I would have married any one of them, except they turned out to be on their way to a convent! To become nuns! Just my luck, eh?”

Merlin chortled along with the rest, and flipped the fish in the pan. “You don’t strike me as the marrying type, Gwaine. Camelot’s the longest you’ve been in one place, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps,” Gwaine suddenly had a gleam in his eye. “But what does make the marrying type, my friend? Have any insights you want to share with us?”

“Maybe you should ask the one here who is married,” said Merlin, gesturing at Arthur. “I’m sure he could give you some tips on how to settle down once and for all.”

“Please, no details,” pleaded Elyan as the rest laughed.

“You were the one who planned my proposal,” mused Arthur, still chuckling. “In fact, you’re quite the romantic, Merlin. You encouraged me to pursue Guinevere and planned some of our first outings. And you kept our secret for us for quite some time. I don’t give you much credit, Merlin, but you’re good at keeping secrets, aren’t you?”

Merlin’s smile faltered for a moment and he looked up in what could almost be described as panic, but his smile quickly returned. Not soon enough, though, that every knight around the fire caught it.

“I’m an open book,” Merlin waved off.

“Debatable,” said Arthur. “Speaking of marriage, Merlin, when are you going to settle down with someone? Ever thought of starting a family?”

Merlin actually laughed, focus back on cooking dinner. “No, I don’t believe that’s in my future any time soon.”

“Why not?” Arthur asked. “I’ve seen you with the children in the town, you’re good with them. And surely one of our many serving girls has pounced on you in your seven years of living in Camelot. You can’t tell me there’s been no one?”

“Not _no_ one,” Merlin protested. “But nothing worth noting.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion at the king. “What’s with the sudden interest? You’ve never asked before. And I have been around for seven years, like you said.”

Arthur shrugged.

Merlin looked at him shrewdly, before rolling his eyes as he mumbled something that sounded like, “no one’s _pounced_ on me, you prat.”

Arthur stared at him a few more moments, the rest of the knights watching in anticipation. _Well, if he wasn’t going to make it easy for them…_

Best to be blunt about it. “Merlin, we know about your secret.”

“Wha-at?” Merlin looked up wide eyed, knuckles suddenly white gripping the handle of the pan. The shock on his face would have been comical if not for an underlying look of… fear?

“You don’t need to keep lying about it, Merlin,” Arthur said gently. “We’re just a little disappointed you didn’t tell us earlier.”

“What?”

“Come on, mate,” Gwaine interjected. “Don’t you think we deserved to know? After everything we’ve been through?”

Merlin’s eyes were darting back and forth from knight to knight, looking much like cornered prey. Arthur frowned.

“You’ve nothing to fear, it’s not like we’re going to string you up for lying to us,” he said. “We just want to be there for you.”

“You… what?” Merlin blinked. “What?”

“Is ‘what’ the only word you know?” Arthur teased. “Seriously Merlin, if anything, I believe a congratulations, although surely belated at this point, is in order.”

Merlin’s fearful face crumpled into confusion. “Congratulations?”

“On your wife and family, Merlin. Honestly, how thick are you?”

“My…” Merlin gaped. “But I’m not married.”

The knights shifted in confused silence. So far, Merlin’s reaction was not at all what they had expected, but the implications of a child born out of wedlock didn’t make sense. Not for Merlin, as they all knew the man to be honorable and kindhearted.

“You’re not married?” Arthur asked. He knew of Merlin’s parentage, and knew he wouldn’t leave his own children to be bastards as well. “But surely you don’t want your son to be raised as…?”

“I don’t have a child either,” Merlin said. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“If you’re not married and don’t have a child then who is it you go home to every night?” Gwaine asked.

“Gaius,” said Merlin, bewildered.

“Before Gaius,” Gwaine explained. “The woman and child at the top of the lower town you see daily? And provide for? And dine with?”

Merlin stared in confusion at Gwaine, mouthing the words back at him as if he had never heard the language before. Realization dawned on his face in a comical “o,” and to everyone’s surprise, he threw his head back and laughed. A deep, shaking belly laugh that soon had him falling over, pan of fish forgotten on the ground, clutching at his sides. The knights glanced at each other, not understanding the joke.

“You mean Sable?” Merlin gasped out as he managed his mirth. “Tall woman, long hair, tiny baby?”

The knights nodded, unsure of where this was going.

“The cooper’s widow?”

They just stared at him, uncomprehending. He sighed, going back to attending dinner.

“John, the town cooper? Made most of the barrels in the royal stores and for most of the inns in the town? No? Well, he died last winter when we had that really strong storm come through and he caught ill. His wife, Sable, was pregnant with their first child. Once John died, Gaius and I checked in on her often, and the pressure and grief of having to sell her husband’s business and not having him around to manage things caused her so much stress she went into labor a month early.

“This was a while ago now, remember when Gaius was sick and I needed a week off my normal duties for you? I helped her deliver the baby, and I’ve been checking in almost daily to see how he’s doing. I often get there fairly late because of my _two full jobs_ , and so she’s taken to cooking dinner for me when I stop by.”

The knights watched in stunned silence as Merlin kept chuckling quietly to himself and finished cooking the last of the fish. He looked up to their incredulous faces.

“You lot honestly thought I had gotten married without telling you?” he asked. “You thought I had _a child_ without telling any of you?”

“Well,” Arthur floundered, floored by the turn of events. He turned helplessly to the other knights for support. It had been their meddling to begin with.

“You don’t expect us to believe that you and, Sable, was it? You and Sable aren’t courting yet?” Gwaine asked defiantly. “We saw the way she was around you, practically throwing herself at you.”

“Of course we’re not, she’s still grieving her husband,” said Merlin, portioning out dinner onto several plates. “Have you been spying on me? And you want to talk about trust?”

“We weren’t spying,” said Percival. “We just noticed you leaving her house the other night. No other man in sight, a baby who looks like you, what were we supposed to think?”

“How about asking me instead of coercing me?” muttered Merlin. He paused in the meal prep. “Wait, hang on, was this the whole purpose of this stupid hunting trip? You set this up because you thought I had some sort of secret family?”

“Let’s get back to the matter at hand,” said Gwaine, surprising Arthur again by saving him from an awkward answer. “There’s a beautiful woman seeking comfort who you already visit daily and have been caring for her and her wee bairn for months, like a father, and you haven’t been pursuing her romantically?”

“You would have me take advantage of a grieving widow?” Merlin fixed him with a glare worthy of Gaius. “I care for her and her child, but she’s still fragile from her loss. Arthur, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize her, she petitioned for court charity when her husband died, she’s been living mostly off that since. And with a new, sick child she can’t take any time to find a job and work.”

“And who better to provide for her than a man with two full jobs?” Gwaine asked.

“If you were to marry we could find quarters for you two within the castle,” Arthur offered.

Merlin gaped. “So now you want me to get married?”

“Only if we’re invited to the wedding,” said Gwaine. “But we want you to be happy, mate. We saw you with them, especially the child. What’s stopping you?”

“Grieving. Widow,” repeated Merlin. “And of course you’re invited to the wedding. Shut up, Gwaine, there is no wedding! Besides, I wouldn’t be a good husband. Two jobs might mean more coin, but what time would I have to spend with them? I’d be a pretty absent father, and I’d rather not put them through that. I help where I can, and will continue to do so, until she can get herself on her own feet.”

“You won’t always have two jobs,” Arthur pointed out.

Merlin’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What, are you sacking me? Again?”

“Well I can’t have the Court Physician also acting as my personal servant.”

“Court Physician?” Merlin exclaimed. “What? What about Gaius?”

“Gaius will have to retire eventually, and who else has trained under him for nearly ten years now?” Arthur explained as if to a child. “Someone will have to take over his duties. Don’t tell me that in all this time you’ve learned nothing.”

Merlin blinked, and shook his head as if to clear it. “So I’d be getting a promotion?”

Arthur shrugged, a smirk on his face. This conversation hadn’t gone nearly to plan but at least he felt like he had won in this moment.

“So does that mean I’d finally get some time off?”

“Don’t make me fire you before you’ve even started,” Arthur hid his smile at the easy banter.

“Hang on,” said Gwaine. “I’m not letting this go. So marry this woman when you have only one job to worry about, but you’re still hiding something from us. You panicked when you thought we knew some secret about you, we all saw it. What is it?”

“Everyone’s got secrets,” said Merlin, looking decidedly uncomfortable again. “I know you do too, Gwaine, don’t you start with me.”

“Not from you,” said Gwaine.

“What, I’m not allowed to have a bit of a personal life you all don’t know?” asked Merlin defensively.

“’Fraid not,” said Arthur. “And you just said you don’t have time for one. Gwaine has a point. If you’re not married, then what did you think we were talking about?”

“None of your damn business,” said Merlin, standing suddenly and glaring at Arthur. “I’m going to take care of the horses.”

“They’ll be fine,” said Arthur. “Sit. Eat.”

The knights sat in uncomfortable silence as they ate their dinners, unsure of what was going to happen now. It took a lot for Merlin to snap at Arthur like that. A few of them exchanged glances, the silence being filled by the occasional clatter of utensils on plates.

“My father was a knight in Caerleon’s court,” announced Gwaine suddenly as he poked absently at his dinner. “Sir Gwaihir of House Virida. Died in battle when I was about ten, Caerleon turned my mother away when she appealed for aid after the war. Reclaimed our lands. None of the other noble families offered any sort of help either, turned us homeless. Never trusted nobility since. Not until pretty recently, I suppose.”

The other knights stared at Gwaine, gobsmacked. Arthur and Leon were openly gaping, Percival and Elyan regarding him with wide eyed stares. Only Merlin wasn’t astounded, but instead was eyeing Gwaine with a pained glare. Leon seemed to pull himself together first and opened his mouth to say something before being cut off.

“I left home when I was fifteen,” said Elyan, catching on. “Dad wanted me to learn the blacksmith trade from him, help man the forge. Mum had just died, and Gwen was twelve. I had these big ideas of going out and becoming something more than just a blacksmith. I didn’t know what I wanted, but figured I would find it along the way. Fell in with a bad crowd, became a sell sword for groups of smugglers for a while. Eventually I was captured with Gwen, and returned to Camelot, despite the shame I felt for leaving behind my family and missing everything with them. Missing all that time with my family is my greatest regret.”

Gwaine clapped his hand on Elyan’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Dinner lay forgotten on their laps as they listened, understanding what was happening, and humbled by his honesty. Merlin was looking more uncomfortable and like he was ready to flee at a moment’s notice. The silence around the fire swelled, no one sure of what was going to happen.

“Gwen and I were betrothed, once.”

“ _What?_ ” Arthur turned to stare at Leon.

“It didn’t last very long, and nothing happened, considering that we were about five years old at the time,” said Leon, his eyes twinkling at Arthur’s incredulous face.

“I think I remember that,” said Elyan. “You proposed to her with a thimble.”

“It was all I could find at the time,” laughed Leon, shrugging. “I think I stole it from one of my mother’s servants. She tried to explain to me the next day that while the thimble was nice, one traditionally proposes with a ring. I was convinced it just had to be something pretty and shiny, and tried to convince her a thimble would do. She returned the thimble and ended the engagement. We didn’t speak for months after.”

“She was quite angry with you,” chuckled Elyan. “But she lost her favorite frog catching partner, and made me keep going out with her to the creek. I can’t tell you how grateful I am she started talking to you again.”

The knights were all chuckling, Arthur giving a begrudging smile at this new knowledge about his wife. His childhood had never been so carefree, but he was glad for Gwen and Leon to have led more normal lives growing up.

“Lancelot found me at the bottom of a barrel of mead, fighting off anyone who came near,” offered Percival. “Just found out my betrothed left me for another man, and so I went to drown my sorrows. Might have actually drowned in the barrel if Lancelot hadn’t pulled me out.”

“I didn’t know,” said Gwaine, looking at his friend. “What happened?”

“I thought we were happy,” Percival shrugged. “She apparently wanted someone who would make more money than a blacksmith’s apprentice. He was a successful merchant from Mercia who caught her eye. I think he was a jeweler for the royal court there.

“Once Lance pulled me out and after I came to my senses a bit, he just stuck around. Helped out, was a kind face at my worst point. I could never repay the debt I had to him.”

“That’s the kind of man he was,” said Merlin, finally breaking his silence. “Always left you indebted to him, never let you believe he would accept any form of repayment.”

“Maybe he once was,” Arthur said bitterly. “Who knows what happened when he went through the veil.”

“He died, Arthur,” said Merlin softly. “That is what happened to Lancelot. The Lancelot we knew. Before your wedding, that… that wasn’t Lancelot.”

“What are you talking about, Merlin?” Arthur glared across the fire.

“It was…” Merlin fidgeted for a moment, then steeled himself and looked at Arthur. “It was a wraith. Conjured to look like Lancelot, use his body, but it wasn’t him.”

“And how do you know this?” Arthur narrowed his eyes at his servant.

“I tested it,” said Merlin, eyes not leaving the king’s. “He had forgotten a lot of details about his life in Camelot, things he wouldn’t just be able to forget. He was a slave to… well, it was Morgana. Trying to come in between you and Gwen. She sent it to place Gwen under an enchantment and ruin your marriage. I didn’t figure it out until some time afterwards.”

Arthur and the knights were staring at him. Elyan looked mutinous, gripping his dinner knife tightly. It had been a tumultuous time in the castle, as people were celebrating the coming wedding and Lancelot’s return, only to suddenly have it all torn apart in front of them.

“How the hell do you know all of that?” Arthur demanded. “Why on earth did you not say anything?”

“I tried,” said Merlin. “You weren’t listening to anything about Gwen at the time, you had already sent her away, and you had threatened to send me away if I kept bringing it up.

“He gave Gwen a bracelet, and Gaius determined it was enchanted with dark magic. Her actions were not her own. I took the wraith of Lancelot away to set him at peace, and he told me it had been Morgana’s doing before he died. Again.” _A little lie here, easily believable._

“You still didn’t say anything afterwards?” asked Arthur.

“Everything had sorted out, and you still didn’t want to hear it,” said Merlin. “I’m sorry I kept it from you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” Arthur murmured in response.

“Gwen deserves to know,” said Elyan, staring hard at Merlin. Merlin turned to look at him.

“Of course,” he nodded. “I’ll tell her when we get back.”

The group grew somber. The only two left to share their secrets were Arthur and Merlin, and it seemed they would let the silence grow; Merlin was content to let this revelation about Lancelot be his secret, and Arthur was not willing to give in. Leon, sitting closest to the king, gave him a small nudge and meaningful glance. Arthur sighed.

“My father was many things,” he started, though his voice caught. He cleared his throat and continued with a hollow tone. “And had many expectations of me. He taught me what he could to prepare me to be king, but I’ve struggled to find my own way with it.

“He wasn’t cruel. But he was harsh and extreme in judgement. And if sorcery was involved, well… you know how he was. One of my first patrols, I can’t have been more than maybe fourteen, we raided a druid camp. I instructed the men to spare the women and children, but in the chaos, everyone was screaming and running, the camp had caught fire, it was hard to tell who was who in the smoke, and… when it was over not a single druid remained alive. I had nightmares for months afterward. Still do sometimes. And when we got back to Camelot after burning their bodies… we burned the whole camp down. After we got back, father congratulated me. Told me I had done well, that I was fulfilling my duty to Camelot. That I would be a good and strong king. I still don’t know how I am supposed to be a good king by slaughtering innocents. My citizens. I’ve made peace with the Druids, but it’s not enough. I don’t think anything will be enough to atone for the sins of my family. We’ve killed so many who were just trying to help, I sometimes feel like I have no right to govern the people who may fear me.”

“Do you still support the ban on magic?” asked Leon, his eyes wide.

“I have seen magic work terror and atrocities on my people,” said Arthur. “On my citizens, my family. Against me personally. It corrupted Morgana. But I’ve heard of it being used for good. Leon, you were healed by the Druids, using magic. If magic can be used like that, why can’t they live in peace here? But whenever I think about it, reconsider it, some new magical thing shows up and kills our people or terrorizes towns. I don’t know what to do about it. Regulate magic? How can we keep control over something like that? How can we know the intentions of any sorcerer in the kingdom?”

No one spoke. Merlin had gone very still, no longer pretending to be stoking the fire. His eyes were shining in the fire’s glow as he stared at it. He feared a single movement would give him away, betray his closest secret without a word. He wasn’t even sure he remembered how to breathe.

“Magic was not always outlawed,” said Leon. “There were ways to regulate it. Ways to ensure safety and prosperity.”

“My father’s work, his legacy,” said Arthur. “It would all be for nothing. Would it be better to justify those killed in the purge by ensuring it wasn’t all for naught, or avenge them by bringing magic back? Which end honors their sacrifice more?”

“They weren’t sacrificed,” said Merlin. The harshness of his voice surprised him. “They didn’t sacrifice anything themselves. They were slaughtered, disregarded as worthless lives, and their families torn apart. They don’t even have grave markers. Thousands were killed out of fear, those who remain wish simply to live. To exist without fear.”

He didn’t look away from the fire, but could feel the knights staring at him. In the corner of his vision he could see Arthur cocking his head to the side. He barely registered the wetness upon his face as the heat of the fire burned his cheeks. It was silent for several long moments, only the pop and crackle of the fire exhausting itself on pockets of air trapped in the sinews of twig and branch echoing throughout the woods.

“Well you’re next, Merlin. What secret do you have to share with us?” Merlin couldn’t tell who spoke over the roaring in his ears.

“Hmm?” he looked up with shining eyes to see the knights staring. “Oh.”

Arthur’s face was guarded but soft, unsure if he wanted to hear what Merlin had to say anymore. He nodded gently at Merlin to continue, trying not to scare him off, dreading what would be said next.

Merlin looked back at the fire. What to tell them? Perhaps now… no. Not yet. Merlin couldn’t bear to see the looks on their faces if he confirmed their worst fears. They may suspect now, after that outburst, but it would have to wait. But not for much longer.

There were so many secrets he could share, so many he could choose from. Some didn’t even incriminate him, except by association. Could he share the tragic way his family was torn apart before it even existed? Explain dragon magic as not quite magic enough for suspicion? Rationally, he knew Uther was dead and Arthur wouldn’t hold the same abject fear, but that didn’t help. That one was too close, and implicated more than just himself.

Maybe the reason this whole conversation was happening in the first place…

“There was a girl, once, years ago,” Merlin started. He barely registered that Arthur’s eyebrows shot up in confusion, surprised at the change in topic again. “I was ready to leave Camelot with her. Go somewhere we could live together in peace. Looking back, I don’t know if it would have actually lasted or been worth it, but we found each other and it seemed, for a moment, like it would work. Like we could run away and everything would be fine.”

“What happened?” asked Percival.

“She died. Before we could leave,” said Merlin simply.

“Why couldn’t you have just stayed in Camelot with her?” asked Leon. “I don’t understand.”

“She was a druid,” said Merlin. “She had been brought in to Uther by a bounty hunter for execution. I helped her escape, but…”

He trailed off. The rest of the company could fill in the gaps. She had been caught, most likely killed on sight, instead of a formal execution. Merlin left to put himself back together.

“When did this happen?” asked Arthur.

“A couple years after I came to Camelot,” said Merlin, looking resolutely at the fire.

“A couple years…” said Arthur. “Surely you don’t mean the druid girl who turned into that beast!”

Everyone caught Merlin’s flinch at that. Leon and Arthur exchanged alarmed glances.

“Merlin, I—“ Arthur started. He remembered this girl very well, and knew exactly what happened to her.

“You didn’t know,” said Merlin harshly. “I didn’t tell you. No one knew, not even Gaius.”

“What beast?” asked Percival.

“She was cursed,” said Merlin before either knight who had been there could answer. “She killed a man who attacked her as a child, and his mother cursed her. She was bidden to kill for the rest of her life. She had no control over it.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Arthur demanded.

“As if I could have told you I helped her escape. She was a druid with magic, and cursed to kill forevermore,” Merlin scoffed. “Would you have done anything different?”

Arthur thought back, and knew she still would have died. He had his people, his knights to protect; Merlin, the idiot who thought he could defend himself from anything, to protect. He would have tried to convince himself and Merlin it was for Merlin’s own good, it was something that was necessary. He still would have killed her.

“I’d have been there for you,” said Arthur. “We’re friends, Merlin. You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone.”

Merlin nearly choked when he cut off a bitter laugh, eyes never straying from the fire. His face remained expressionless, but the hollowness of his eyes glinted in the flickering fire, flashing the ghost of a shadow across his face.

No one said anything, unsure of how to proceed. Merlin didn’t offer anything else. They were left to their own thoughts.

“Surely this wasn’t what you were so worried about us finding out, Merlin,” pressed Gwaine. “A lost love from years ago? That can’t be it.”

“It wasn’t,” said Merlin. “I have a few secrets to choose from.”

“Will you ever tell us?”

Merlin looked up at Gwaine, then darted his eyes around the fire, coming to a rest on Arthur’s face. Long shadows of the fire flicked up at him, dancing across his cheeks, and drowning out the bright blue of his eyes in a flash of orange.

“Yes. One day. Maybe soon. I don’t know when, but yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! I would love to read your reviews or comments or critiques or whatever you have to say about this. This idea was floating in my head for a while and just really needed to get out there, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> For those of you waiting on The Ending to update, worry not, for I have not forgotten it!! I've been working on a few projects, but that one is my top priority at the moment. Thanks for your patience!!


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